


vampires don't eat curly fries

by FeoplePeel



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Humor, M/M, Movie: Lost Boys (1987), Multi, Santa Carla (Lost Boys), Useless Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 17:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeoplePeel/pseuds/FeoplePeel
Summary: So, Steve is a vampire. Jonathan can handle this. And now Steve is coming at him. Less good, but manageable andwow those teeth look sharp. Jonathan does the only thing any sensible human would do when facing down too-big hair and too-sharp teeth. He cranks back his arm and punches his new…friendsquare in the jaw.





	vampires don't eat curly fries

Jonathan had seen them at the fair, on the carousel. Some too-cool-to-mean-it guy with what Will had called ‘a tribble’ on his head, and a slim brunette in what had to be his jacket weaving between the wooden horses, making her way towards him. He gave Will a few tickets to go on a ride with some new kids he had met. It cost Jonathan a pretty penny, but he was so happy Will had met actual people he could talk to to care.

“Kid brother?” Jonathan jumps at the sound of a voice close to his ear. It’s the girl from the carousel, still in that jacket. He can smell it before he looks below her neck, ringed with a dozen bronze necklaces that make her eyes sparkle. Or maybe it’s the fairway lights. Or maybe they’re just that bright. Photogenic.

“Yeah,” he finally chokes out. “Took the last of my tickets too.”

“Don’t you just love that?” She grins and he leans forward without thinking, passes it off as a rocking motion. “I’ve got one, too. A brother, floating around here somewhere eating my money.” She raises and finger and runs it, circular through the air. “But I think I can convince Benny to let the new guy play the water gun game at least once, for free. You _are_ new, right?”

“I’m new,” he repeats, following her to the stand lit up in red, then blue, then yellow, with a picture of a gun and a fountain at the top. “I’m Jonathan. Jonathan Byers. From Hawkins. It’s in Indiana,” he clarifies, because he always needs to when they move.

“Wow,” she raises a brow. “Is that near New York?”

“Kind of…,” he hedges. “No, not at all.”

She laughs at him, he _assumes_ it’s at him, and settles something with the man at the booth. When she turns back she has a bright orange gun attached to the stall with a rope. She still hasn’t told him her name. It’s probably impolite to ask...but it’s impolite not to give it, too.

“Where’s your boyfriend?”

“Around,” she raises her shoulder, and holsters the gun on it like she’s done this a hundred, a thousand times. She probably has. “Steve has a relationship with poorly constructed roller coasters that I’ll never understand."

She aims and fires with precision unmatched by the three others at the booth. The light at the top dings. The vendor--Benny, Jonathan reasons--motions to the prizes with a defeated sigh.

“What would your brother want?” she asks and the words are barely out of her mouth before Jonathan points to the second row from the top.

“The alien, please.” Jonathan waits until the stuffed thing is in his arms before he turns back to her. “Thanks…,”

“Nancy,” she places the gun back on the table and takes a step forward to peck him on the check. “Welcome to Santa Carla.”

* * *

Steve is waiting for him around the corner of the _Epsilon_ , leaning against a dirty wall with a bag of curly fries in one hand. Jonathan’s sure it’s meant to look cool, or maybe intimidating, but he mostly looks cold. Even trying to picture it with the jacket strikes Jonathan as something out of a stage production.

“You enjoy seeing the fair with Nance?”

“Sure,” Jonathan sighs because, at this point, he’s resigned. He really hopes Steve doesn’t toss aside the fries for dramatic flair. They cost at least three bucks and it really isn’t worth it--oh, there they go. On the ground between them. Jonathan lets his face fall though, to Steve, it may register as a challenge. “She was very welcoming.”

“Welcoming, huh,” Steve’s nod is mocking. “Funny how she didn’t think to mention Santa Carla’s dangerous little situation.” Jonathan can feel his brow raise, much as he’d like to force it down. “Otherwise you’d be turning tail and running home right now.”

“Situation?”

“Vampires, new guy,” Steve pushes off of the wall, bares his teeth just that little bit, enough to shine. “I’m talking about _vampires_.”

“Vampires.”

“That’s right.”

“You’re a vampire.”

Steve turns to face him, and Jonathan can see two sharp points in excruciating detail. It’s dumb, is his first thought. It’s _so dumb_.

“I would lead with that,” Jonathan tilts his head to the ground. “Instead of buying a whole handful of fries just to throw them on the ground.”

“What?”

“I mean, if you can’t even eat them, why the hell are you even buying them? It’s wasteful.”

“...you believe me?”

“You don’t know where I’m from, but honestly,” Jonathan takes a deep breath and thinks about his adopted, _telekinetic_ sister, the reason they left Hawkins in the first place. “I’ve seen weirder.”

So, Steve is a vampire. Jonathan can handle this. And now Steve is coming at him. Less good, but manageable and _wow those teeth look sharp_. Jonathan does the only thing any sensible human would do when facing down too-big hair and too-sharp teeth. He cranks back his arm and punches his new… _friend_ square in the jaw.

Surprisingly, especially to Jonathan, Steve staggers back, holding his jaw. There are obvious tears in his eyes. He clearly hasn’t been punched often. “What the hell, man? Who punches a vampire?”

Jonathan leans forward to pick up a sliver of white among the fallen curly fries. “Are these _fake teeth_?”

“Okay, honesty time,” Steve stands up straight, quicker than Jonathan thought possible for a man on the verge of tears. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Not a vampire.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Jonathan waves the teeth like a trophy.

“But I’m turning into one!” Steve leans against the wall again, this time in more of a dejected slump. “Nancy’s my girl. She took the curse for her brother, I took it for her.”

“That’s...kind of noble,” Jonathan takes up the space beside him, a careful distance just in case.

But Steve doesn’t seem to notice, smiling a little at the compliment. “You think so? I mean I thought so, but it’s not something you can say about yourself, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s arrogant when you say it,” Jonathan stares at him flatly. “Of course, you know it’s completely negated by you attacking me just now.”

“I was ordered to bring you to my Sire. He said he’d take you instead of Nance.”

“And _you_ thought...surprise attack...with fake teeth,” Jonathan stares at the teeth in his hand again. “Wow.”

“It worked a lot better in my head.”

“I’ll bet,” Jonathan tries not to laugh. He nearly succeeds. Steve turns a full glare on him that looks like an angry kitten. Tribble, Jonathan remembers, and has to fight even harder not to laugh again. “This...boss of yours--”

“Sire.”

“What can he do?”

“What do you mean? He’s a _vampire._ He sucks your blood and leaves you a bloodsucking monster in his wake, man!”

“No, no, I get that,” Jonathan waves away Steve’s outburst. “I mean, like, can he _do_ anything? Read your thoughts, explode shit? Move things with his mind?”

“What?” Steve scoffs. “What kind of sci-fi bullcrap have you been reading?”

“Me? None,” Jonathan grins. “But my sister’s a big fan. I’ll introduce you.” Steve gives him a skeptical look. “I’m _saying_ I’m going to help you out.”

“Oh,” Steve’s mouth moves back and forth oddly, like he can’t find what it is he wants to say. “...thanks.”

“Your girlfriend won my brother a toy so,” Jonathan tapped the alien’s head, stuffed as it was in the front of his coat, “we’re all even I guess.”

“Even Steven,” Steve says, then suddenly, “I’m Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah, I know. You and Nancy are really awful at introducing yourselves.” Jonathan holds out a hand anyway. “Jonathan Byers, professional big brother, and unofficial vampire hunter, I guess.”


End file.
